A Fic With No Name
by zzzaney
Summary: Fraser disobeys a direct order and discovers the consequences are more dire than he ever imagined.
1. Default Chapter

Part 1  
  
As he stood tentatively in the doorway of the hospital room, he could feel the knot of fear twist in the pit of his stomach as he recalled those long moments.  
Why was it so difficult for her to let someone love her? He knew it was his fault that she lay in the bed before her, pale. IV's dripping slowly into a lifeless form.   
Slowly, he made his way towards her, quietly, lest he disturb her and she realize that she wasn't alone. Though part of him wished she'd wake this instant so he could tell her how sorry he was, that it was all his fault. That everything would be all right if she'd just open her eyes and never leave him again.  
Worrying the brim of his hat between strong hands, he quietly lifted a chair closer to the bed and sat, perched on its edge. He didn't really know what he was doing there. Certainly he'd be the last person she'd want to see if... no, when she wakes. Yet, something compelling bid him to her side as if his very life depended on it. He couldn't leave her. Wouldn't. He had to make certain with his own eyes that she'd be all right. She had to be.   
Dare he touch her hand? Hold it securely in his? It was a tentative bond, but it was all he had. Carefully, so as not to bump the IV needle, he wrapped his fingers around her thin hand, breathing a small sigh of relief that it was warm to the touch. She looked so otherworldly that he feared... No! He wouldn't even think it.   
  
She had to get better. She *would* get better.  
  
He wasn't sure how long he'd sat in that chair, unable to move. Waiting. Every once in a while, a nurse would come in and check her vital signs, but she didn't stir. No one questioned his right to be there, and for that he sent up a prayer of thanks.   
When she did start to move, he looked at her dumb-struck. Surely God hadn't answered his prayers? He wasn't worthy enough. He stood shakily and leaned over the bed. "Margaret?" he whispered, though his voice sounded loud to his own ears after the long hours of silence.  
Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinked a few times, but didn't seem to focus on him.  
"Meg?" he asked again, hoping for, and dreading, a sign of recognition from her. Her mouth moved but no sound came forth. When her tongue darted out to moisten cracked, dry lips, he quickly grabbed the cup from her tray which the nurse had filled with ice chips, and spooned a few into waiting lips.  
After a few moments her face scrunched up and she started to sob. He quickly wiped the tears away with his thumb as he leaned closer, whispering to her that she would be all right. That he wouldn't leave her. That she needed to rest, assuring her he'd be there for her when she woke again.  
He wasn't sure how much she understood, but after a few moments she fell back into a fitful slumber, and he sank into the chair relieved.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Days passed and Margaret didn't seem to be getting any better, though according to the doctors she was making marked improvement. He always made certain that no one else was visiting when he arrived, though that didn't appear to be a problem since she didn't seem to have many friends in Chicago.  
  
"Benny?"   
  
He didn't have to turn to know who'd entered the room. He'd been avoiding Ray for days. Avoiding everyone. If he had to hear this 'wasn't his fault' one more time, he swore he'd go mad.   
He could hear Ray move farther into the room and sighed as he sat straighter.  
  
"You're a hard man to track." Ray said as way of an opener.  
  
"Apparently, not hard enough." Ben, uncharacteristically replied.   
  
Ray studied him for a moment, then slid another chair up to his. Sitting down with a sigh, folded his hands, his elbows on the arm rests, and waited.  
"You look like shit." Ray stated without pretense.  
When Fraser didn't answer, Ray decided to wait him out. For the first time since entering the room, since finding his friend safe after days of worrying, he was able to focus on Thatcher. The other times he'd come by looking for Fraser he'd barely paid attention to her. Not that he didn't care, he reminded himself, but at least he knew she was safe. No one had seen Fraser since she'd been taken by the ambulance.  
Thatcher seemed a mere shell of herself. Of course, the accident could have been worse. Much worse. Not that he would have admitted it to anyone, but if she were to sit up and give him hell for dragging Fraser off on another hair-brained scheme, he'd feel a whole lot better. Ray knew it was his fault she was in here. 'No wonder Fraser's been avoiding me', he thought as he watched his friend watch her.  
"Everyone's been worried about you." Ray stated, "Dief hasn't even been trying to steal my food. He just whines all day long."  
'That seemed to get his attention'.   
  
"I'd forgotten all about him." Fraser guiltily admitted, wondering just how many people he'd managed to let down.  
  
"I wouldn't worry too much. Frannie's been pampering him like he's a baby. She's figuring you're going to pick him up eventually, and she's making all these crazy plans. I told her to leave you alone though."  
  
Ben didn't appear to hear him at first, but then he muttered a 'thank you kindly'. Ray figured he could have told Fraser Canada had just been invaded by dentists and his reaction would have been the same.  
  
"You should get some rest." Ray stated, but again, was met with only silence from the Mountie. "When was the last time you slept?"  
  
Though he hadn't answered him, Ben was aware of the questions Ray asked. When was the last time he'd slept? It had to have been before the accident. How could he be expected to sleep when she was in here? He wondered. No, when he'd *caused* her to be in here, he corrected himself.  
He tried not to think about the argument they'd had. A stupid argument over requisition forms. At least, that's the way it had started out. Up until that point, he'd tried everything he could think of to convince her to give him a chance. That protocol didn't factor into their feelings for each other. At times, she seemed to waver. Seemed to want a relationship just as much as him. But then that shell would close over her again. She'd be as distant as ever, giving him a menial task to do as she made her escape to the safety of her office. That's what he'd assumed the boiler was. Another way to keep him out of her way while she put more distance between them.  
  
Ray couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Look Benny, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking of anyone but myself again, and because of that, Thatcher's in here. If I could take it back again, I would. Despite what you say, I know you have feelings for her."  
  
Ben stared at him, then blinked. Had he heard him right? "Ray…"  
  
"No, let me finish. I know you had things to do at the Consulate. And all I was doing was checking out a perp. I could have done it alone. But I didn't want to. Ok? I…" Making the confession wasn't easy for him, and the Italian stood and started pacing as he talked.  
  
"Ray, it wasn't your fault." Ben assured him, astonished that he'd even think such a thing.  
  
Ray stopped and turned to look at him. "Then who's fault was it? I'm the one that dragged you out, telling you that it was important and that I needed your help. It didn't matter that you told me you had to check out the boiler. What did I tell you? It wasn't going anywhere? That it 'wouldn't take long' ? Who else am I supposed to blame?"  
Ray's rant was cut off when Fraser quietly spoke.  
  
"Me."  
  
Stunned silence followed the simple confession.  
  
"What? How could you think this was your fault. You weren't the one who-"  
  
"I was the one who didn't follow an order from my commanding officer. And because of that, she's laying near death in this hospital." His voice raised with the self loathing he felt.  
"I wasn't there for her. I'm a disgrace to the R.C.M.P." he stood and stared at Ray hard, then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Knowing what he had to do, he opened them and turned towards Meg. Leaning over, he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and gently caressed her cheek.  
"I'm sorry, Meg. Sorry for a lot of things." He whispered. After a moment, he stood and started to walk out of the room.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" Ray asked, not sure about the change he'd seen in his friend.  
  
Ben looked at the stetson in his hand, then decisively placed it on his head. "To turn myself in." 


	2. A Fic With No Name part 2

Ray stormed out of the hospital room after his friend. Fraser was crazy! He had to be. He caught up with him just as Fraser entered the stairwell and grabbed his arm. 

"Are you crazy? Turn yourself in for what? You didn't cause this to happen to Thatcher. It was an accident." Ray stressed, hoping to talk sense into his friend before he threw his career down the toilet. 

Fraser yanked his arm free and started down the steps. In desperation, Ray decided to lie. 

"She's awake, Fraser!" 'That got his attention,' he thought as the Mountie stopped walking. 

"She woke just as you left the room. Heard the whole thing. She told me to tell you to come back to the room." 

Fraser looked up at him with a combination of hope and wariness. "She isn't awake." He finally stated, but his voice lacked conviction. 

"She told me that if you didn't want to come back, that I was to order you back there." Ray bluffed, hoping he was convincing enough. He had no idea what he was going to do once they were back in the room, if Fraser would go back to the room, but Fraser needed to at least wait until she was awake before throwing his life away. 

When Fraser still seemed unsure, Ray took a deep breath and went for the kill. "She's still your commanding officer. Are you going to disobey her?" _Again. _The word hung tangibly in the air between them, as if he'd spoken it out loud. 

The pain in his friends eyes all but made him confess to the ruse, but he changed his mind when Fraser started walking back up the steps. He could tell the Mountie was nervous when his steps faltered as they neared her room. Ray braced himself as Ben entered the room. He decided to wait in the hallway. It wouldn't take long for him to come back out. 

The door opened and Ray stared guardedly at his friend, not knowing what kind of reaction he'd have. Pissed as all hell he knew, but beyond that? 

When Fraser offered him a small smile, his puzzlement must have shown on his face. 

"She was asleep again by the time I got in there." 

Ray didn't know whether or not to admit to the ruse. He finally settled on a one syllable answer. "Oh." 

After another pause, "Are you OK?" Ray added. 

"Yes. Would you do me a favor and bring me a change of clothes, and perhaps my shaving kit? I want to be here for her when she wakes up again." 

Ray nodded. "Sure Benny. I can do that." 

When Fraser smiled at him, then went back into the room, Ray continued to stare at the door for a moment, then ran a hand through his cropped hair. Shaking his head, he hoped Thatcher really would wake soon, then everything could go back to the way it was. 

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ 

"Fraser?" Ray tentatively called as he opened the office door. He never  
could understand why Fraser took the smallest office in the building. The  
thought left him when he saw the Mountie.  
  
It looked as if he'd bet his life savings on the Cubs and lost it all. He  
turned to face Ray when he heard his name, then turned back to his cot. On  
it, was his ruck sack. Ray watched as he stuffed a few more items into it,  
then stepped farther into the room.  
  
"What's going on? You look like you're planning a vacation." Ray said as way  
of an opener.  
  
Dief whined at his feet pitifully, but Ray didn't spare him a glance.  
"What's going on?" He repeated when Fraser didn't answer him.  
  
Ben turned to him grim faced. "Ottawa sent a temporary replacement for  
Inspector Thatcher while she's... incapacitated. He arrived yesterday  
afternoon. The first thing he wanted was a complete report on her accident."  
  
A moment of silence hung in the air, then when the implications of his  
friend's simple statement sank in, Ray whispered a 'Jesus, Benny'.  
"You told him this was your fault, didn't you?" Ray asked, but he already  
knew the answer.  
  
"I wasn't going to lie, Ray."  
  
"Benny, it wasn't your fault. You know that. Everybody knows that! Why are you beating yourself up like this? Think about it. There have been other  
times you've disobeyed Thatcher. You didn't wear the brown uniform. What  
about the time you didn't show up for duty? Remember? We were hiding in the  
stripper's closet?"  
  
"Her name was Ida, and she wasn't a stripper, Ray, she was an exotic  
dancer." Fraser corrected.  
  
"Stop changing the subject. The fact is, there's been plenty of times  
you've disobeyed the Inspector. Why is this time different? Why are you  
determined to throw your career away?" Ray demanded.  
  
Fraser had turned to take his pack but spun around quickly, anger seeping  
from him. His jaw clenched as he realized it wasn't Ray he was angry with.  
"Thank you kindly, Ray, for reminding me how unfit I am to be a member of the R.C.M.P. You can honestly stand there and ask me, 'what's different'? My commanding officer is laying in a hospital because of my actions. In the  
past I hadn't realized how lucky I'd been. It's no small wonder this hasn't  
happened to someone else long ago."  
  
He realized then, that it wasn't the first time he'd put someone he cared  
about in the hospital. Ray had also been there because of him. He turned and  
picked up his pack adjusting it over his shoulder.  
  
"Where are you going?" Ray asked again, quieter.  
  
Fraser fiddled with the stetson in his hand, then looked at Ray. "Until  
Inspector Thatcher recovers enough to give her version of the events, it's  
been 'suggested' that I take some leave time."  
  
Ray swore under his breath, his anger returning. "You're just going to let  
them do that to you? Where will you go?"  
  
"Ray, I'm not letting anyone do anything to me. I've caused this situation  
myself. I'll......I'll probably go up to my father's cabin for awhile. I can  
wait for word there."  
  
Ray nodded as he looked around the small room. "And what about Thatcher?"  
  
When Fraser paused, Ray knew he'd find an Achilles heel. "She's receiving  
the best possible care." Fraser conceded.  
  
"Yesterday you asked me to bring you clothes so you wouldn't have to leave  
her side. Now you're willing to go 2,000 miles away?"  
  
"I...don't have a choice, Ray." Fraser admitted.  
  
"They can't make you leave, Fraser. Where's this new guy? I'll let him know  
he can't just push you around." Ray turned to leave the office, but Fraser  
stayed him with a hand on his arm.  
  
"Ray. They can make me leave. I'm a Canadian citizen. If I'm relieved of  
duty, even temporarily, I have to go back to Canada." Ray opened his mouth  
to object, but Fraser shook his head. "Please don't fight this, Ray. This is  
something I need to do."  
"My flight leaves in three hours. Would you take us?" Fraser asked.  
Dief whined again and this time Ray did look at him. He sighed as he  
realized how much he'd miss having the Mountie around. "Yeah, of course I  
will. But I wanna make one stop along the way."  
  
Fraser nodded and offered his friend a small smile of thanks. Ray was  
truly one of the only people he could count on in difficult times. He was  
more than a friend, he was family. Fraser realized that he would miss him  
more than anyone. Anyone that was except... His throat constricted as he  
thought of her, and fought to push past the pain. It was time for him to go. 


	3. A Fic With No Name part 3

Ray shifted uncomfortably in the wooden chair. He knew the drill. He'd been around Internal Affairs enough to know when someone was trying to shake him. Make him slip up. Of course, the Canadian version of IA was nothing compared to Chicago's department, but still. It unnerved him that his statement would either make or break his friend. He frowned at how comfortable the two Canadian officers had made themselves in Thatcher's office. He'd never really spent any time in it himself, but he knew she wouldn't be too pleased to know they'd all but taken over. 

He wished Fraser was here. It worried him what they were putting his friend through. Hell, he was more worried about what Fraser was putting himself through. So much had happened in the past week and a half it almost seemed surreal. The last time he'd managed to reach him was three days ago, and Ray was relieved he'd been able to tell him Thatcher was awake. He was also thankful for the bad connection, so he didn't have to go into too much detail about her condition. A throat cleared and brought him back to the present. 

"I've already told you what happened." He gruffly replied, not trying to hide his irritation. 

A skinny man with fish breath, Inspector Hackensaw was his name, leaned over the table. "Why don't you tell us one more time." The other man hadn't said a word since Ray entered the room. 

Ray sighed. If they wanted to play the game, he'd play it. "Like I said before. I went to the Consulate to get Fraser. We were working on a case and I had a lead on a perp." 

Hackensaw interrupted. "Does he normally leave his duties at the Consulate to help you with *your* police work?" 

Ray was being goaded, they both knew it. They were playing good cop/bad cop. It was a no brainer which part Fish Breath had. 

"Constable Fraser was assigned as a liaison to the Chicago Police Department. He was my partner." 

"Your unofficial partner." Hackensaw stated. 

"Yes." 

"Continue." 

Ray was about to snap at the idiot that if he'd not been interrupted in the first place, there'd be no reason for him to have to 'continue'. Taking a deep breath, he gritted his teeth but kept his face neutral. Once he felt back in control, he leaned back in the chair and gave them a lopsided smile. As Fraser would say, 'kill them with kindness'. 

"As I was saying, I got a lead on a perp, and asked Fraser to come with me to check it out. He told me about the boiler" Ray paused, then continued. "But I convinced him it could wait until later." 

"Even though his commanding officer had instructed him to see to it, since it had been making odd noises?" 

"The perp was more important. We'd been looking for a lead for weeks! And boilers make noises all the time. Besides, Fraser's not a plumber. What could he have done anyway?" Ray came back. He could feel the man getting under his skin, like a maggot. He wouldn't let them see his irritation though. He was determined. Ray's face reflected calm assurance. 'Damn it, Fraser!' he thought, 'if you'd just have listened to me, we wouldn't have to go through this.' 

"He could have called one." Hackensaw smoothly replied. "What happened next?" 

Ray's hands clenched into fists as they sat on his lap out of view. He just needed to remain calm, he reminded himself. 

"We checked out the perp, and I brought Fraser back to the Consulate. No sooner did we get into the building then there was a loud humming noise. Before I knew what was happening, Fraser ran into the kitchen. I started after him, but when I got to the kitchen it was empty. That's when I saw the basement door open. I ran over. Fraser was running up the stairs, pulling Inspector Thatcher with him. That's when the first explosion hit." 

"The whole building shook, I was thrown to the ground. Windows exploded, it was total chaos. By the time I got up and made it to the basement, there was nothing but smoke and water everywhere. The steps were half gone and Fraser was holding onto the Inspector with one arm while trying to hold onto the top step. I helped get them out of the basement and he took her outside while I called 9-1-1. He then instructed me to get towels and wet them down with cool water from the fridge." 

"When I got back outside, he was giving her rescue breaths. We put the towels on the burns we could see. That's when the second explosion occurred. He covered her with his body. About that time the Fire Department and Ambulance showed up." 

"Fraser and I ran back inside to make certain the Consulate was empty. Since it was after five everyone was supposed to be gone, but he wanted to make sure. No one else had been in the building."  


Hackensaw folded his arms across his chest, frowning. "When you say the basement was full of 'water', was it cold water?" 

Ray eyed the man. He couldn't really be that stupid, could he? What? A boiler explodes and he's asking if the water was cold? He leveled him with an even look. "No." 

"Would you say the water was hot?" he continued. 

Ray glanced down at his hands, the angry red blotches reminding him of the searing heat from the steam. Not that he would be able to forget that, or the water that had been still boiling as it poured across the floor and marked the walls. 

"I wouldn't want to go swimming in it, if that's what you mean." He eluded. 

"That's not what I asked." Hackensaw pressed. 

"Yes." 

"Yes, what?" 

"Yes it was hot! What kind of an idiot are you?" He snapped. "A boiler exploded," he said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully as if that would be the only way they could understand it. "What do you think the water's going to be?" 

The man who hadn't spoken frowned, and scribbled something in a note pad. Fish Breath chose to ignore the outburst, but Ray could have sworn he saw a small smile on his lips. It left just as quickly making him wonder if he'd seen it at all. 

"Why was the Inspector in the basement?" Hackensaw asked. 

"How the hell should I know?" Ray ground out. As far as he was concerned this interview was over. He went to stand but changed his mind when the silent man wrote something again. He had to stand up for Fraser. God knew the man wouldn't stand up for himself. That thought alone made him want to tear into Fraser, but seeing the feral look in Hackensaw's face, his thoughts once again changed to protecting his friend. 

"He did everything in his power to keep her safe. He covered her body with his, did you get a look at him? He's burned too!" 

Hackensaw picked up a file and skimmed the contents, then turned back to Ray. "You were also hurt weren't you, Detective Vecchio?" he asked. A pit sank to the bottom of Ray's stomach. He knew where this was leading. They didn't just want to get Benny for Thatcher's injuries, they wanted to nail him to the wall with everything they could. 

Ray shrugged. "No. Not really. I'm a police officer, it's part of the job." 

"But you were treated for minor burns, and cuts." He read from the file. Ray silently cursed Welsh for insisting he go to the hospital to be checked out. 

Ray didn't answer, and Hackensaw sighed. "We're finished, for now." 

Ray stood and snatched his coat from the back of his chair. He turned when he reached the door. "He saved her life. We both know it. He got her out before the second explosion." 

Hackensaw didn't bother to glance at him, continuing to skim the file as he answered. "Had he done his job, Detective, there wouldn't have been any explosions to begin with. But that's not for us to decide, now is it?" 

Ray slammed the door on the way out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Fifty-three thousand, two hundred fifteen dollars and thirty-five cents. American. That's the estimate of damage the boiler caused to the Consulate. The basement's demolished, the older part of the building that used the boiler heat is damaged. Every room with a radiator needs to be repaired. It's a wonder no one else was hurt, Constable." 

Ben swallowed as he focused on a spot on the wall, doing his best to not let any emotion show. Deputy Commissioner Charles Underhill sighed and stood, coming around his desk to lean against it. 

"Relax, Ben." 

Ben's shoulders didn't sag, but he looked at his father's old friend directly. 

"You certainly have gotten yourself into a mess this time, haven't you?" he asked, shaking his head as he tossed the file on the desk in front of him. Charles leaned against the desk and folded his arms, studying the younger man for a moment. In a gentler voice, he asked, "How is she?" 

Ben sighed and rubbed a knuckle across his brow, allowing his posture to relax. "I'm not certain, Sir. I spoke with Ray a few days ago. He said she's awake now, but doesn't have a recollection about the incident." 

Charlie nodded. "Well, that's to be expected with the trauma of the accident and the concussion. It's probably temporary." 

Ben cleared his throat. "That's what Ray says. Or at least what he says the doctors' say. I'd feel... Well..." He straightened up again. "I know I've been temporarily relieved of duty pending a Fitness Review Board hearing. If I could go back to Chicago though, see for my... I mean, I could wait for the Board to convene from there, couldn't I?" 

"Ben, you know as well as I do that when a person's under review, they can't travel outside of the country. Hell, I don't even think they'll let you out of Ottawa just yet." 

"But the incident did, technically, happen on Canadian soil. Since the Consulate is considered a part of Canada I wouldn't really be leaving the country." 

Charles shook his head. "I don't think I can make this work. There are a lot of people watching this case, Ben. People more influential than myself. 

Ben's eyes closed briefly. When he opened them, he gave a small nod. "I understand." 

Charles placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "She's going to be all right, Ben. If it'll help, I'll call the hospital myself. Since I outrank her, it can be an official call. I'll find out how she's really doing, okay?" 

Ben sighed, relieved somewhat that he'd have accurate information regarding her condition. Though Ray didn't say it, he could tell his friend had been holding something back. Since then, his imagination had been running unchecked, reliving the afternoon at the Consulate, imagining her injuries greater than what he'd seen; even imagining her dead. A shudder went through him at the thought. 

It was hard enough to keep the demons at bay when he slept. Slept. He almost snorted in contempt at the thought. If lying awake for hours on end, worrying, then falling into a fitful nightmare before waking again could be called 'sleep', then he'd been sleeping. 

"Ben? Are you all right? I know you were also hurt." Underhill's concern made Fraser feel guilty. Ben knew he'd deserved everything he'd gotten. He only wished he could have spared Meg her pain as well. 

"I'm fine. I, uh, think I'll take a walk. Clear my head," Fraser suggested as he waved a hand inconsequentially in the air. He had to get away from the concerned look on the other man's face. 

"That's a good idea. Give you some time to think. The fresh air will do you good." 

Ben left the office, and Charles sat down at his desk with a heavy sigh. Buzzing his secretary, he asked her to get Mercy Hospital in Chicago on the line for him. 


	4. A Fic With No Name part 4

Meg pushed the button on the rail of the hospital bed and slowly brought herself into a half-sitting position. She winced as the bed shifted against her bandages, a small tear escaping her eye. She was in pain, and tired, and bored out of her mind. And worst of all, everyone treated her as if she were made of glass. They'd even refused to give her any details of the accident that put her in the hospital to begin with! 

She'd woken three days ago, at least, she thought it had been three days, to find herself trapped in the hospital. She had tried to be patient while the doctor asked her which day it was. Did she know the date. Who the current president was. What street the Consulate was located on. When she went to answer him, she discovered then she couldn't speak. It was just one of the injuries she found she had from whatever had put her in the hospital to begin with. The doctor had her write her answers down on a pad, then frowned as he read the answers. 

Over the past few days bits and pieces were coming back to her in a jumble. They didn't make sense. She wasn't sure what she'd dreamed and what was real. She blamed that on the pain medication they continued to pump into her IV. 

The only thing she could clearly remember before waking up in the hospital was eating a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast with a glass of orange juice before leaving for the Consulate. Of course, she mused, that could have been a different day entirely. 

Her throat burned as if it was on fire. She couldn't ever remember having a sore throat that bad in her life, not even when she'd had strep as a child. Meg closed her eyes against the brightness of the room, hoping to make the throbbing in her head recede. 

Meg wondered where Fraser was. She thought he had been in the room with her, but that part must have been a dream. When she woke, she'd been alone. Of course it was a dream! She snapped at herself. That was the only explanation for her thinking he'd held her in his arms, kissed her lips gently, told her he'd be there for her and loved her. 

She sighed as she tried to shift without causing herself too much pain. How many times had she had similar dreams, just to be disappointed in the morning? 

A knock on the door brought her out of her musings. "Inspector Thatcher?" 

She eyed the newcomer as he came into the room. The man looked to be about 45 years old, and was wearing a three piece suit in navy blue. She critically looked over his neat haircut, and the way he kept is posture ramrod straight. The look on his face was dispassionate, business like. She immediately ruled out some type of hospital employee. So far everyone of the staff who came into her room all had a look of sympathy about them. 

That also ruled out counselor. For a moment she thought he could have been in billing, or insurance, but since he held no forms or briefcase, she dismissed that idea just as quickly as it came. That only left one choice. He had to be here on official business and she'd yet to meet an officer on this side of the border who didn't look like a stereotypical television cop on some crime show. 

He was clearly R.C.M.P. She wondered why he was there. 

"I'm Inspector Lombardi. Ottawa sent me to stand in for you while you recover." 

'_Of course'. But why did they send someone so soon?_ She knew that if she were to be incapacitated for a long period of time, it was Standard Operating Procedure to call in a replacement. But for anything short term, the Deputy Liaison Officer could handle the Consulate_. _She wasn't planning to be here any longer than she had to. _Just where **was **Fraser anyway?_

Meg tried to speak and immediately regretted the decision. She closed her eyes and fought for breath. Finally feeling back in control, Meg motioned for the pad and pen on the tray table. 

Her eyelids started to droop and she used all her will to keep them open. She wouldn't look incapable in front of a colleague. Despite the fact she was in the hospital, she was still in command of the Consulate and she would not have this temp report to Ottawa and tell them she was incapacitated. She wasn't certain how well she was covering, but Meg could only hope he'd finish this visit soon. She could barely keep her eyes open. Meg fought the pain medication as she watched the man. 

Inspector Lombardi quickly brought it over to her and placed the pen in her good hand. The other was completely bandaged. Meg wrote shakily, but Inspector Lombardi had no trouble reading the simple question. 

_'Where's Fraser?'_

Instead of answering right away, he studied her face. "The doctors say you don't have any memory of the incident. Has that changed at all?" 

Meg glared at him, wanting to yell at him to just answer the damned question! Apparently, her glare wasn't working the way it normally did. Ok, she'd answer his question, but then he'd better start answering hers. 

Meg shook her head 'no'. 

"I'm sorry, Inspector, but I've been instructed to not discuss any details with you concerning the incident. There will be an investigator from Ottawa in tomorrow or the next day to speak with you. I just wanted to check on you and introduce myself. Not to worry, I'll take good care of the Consulate until you return." 

Meg could feel her eyelids drooping heavily and tried to fight the feeling. She had more questions now than before. Why would Ottawa be sending an investigator? Just want was going on? There was only one person she could count on, and trusted, to give her the answers she needed. She picked up the pad and jerked it in his direction. '_Where's Fraser?'_

Inspector Lombardi looked at her with pity, which made her angrier, even as his demeanor caused an alarm to go through her at the thought of something happening to her Constable. Was he involved in the 'incident' too? Dear God, what if he was badly hurt? It would explain why he hadn't come to visit her. He could be in that very hospital and she wouldn't even know it. Her mind began to wander and she tried to fight it. 

What if he had died? 

Her breath caught at the thought causing her to choke, then the pain came again. She tried to focus on the man before her but she couldn't seem to make her body obey. If only she wasn't so tired 

Her hand dropped slowly to the bed as her eyes closed against her will. _No, damn it! Answer my question! Where is he? Is he alright?'_ her mind screamed as she sank back into oblivion. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Ray walked up the steps to the consulate and had to step aside as a man in white overalls carried a ladder out the door. Shaking his head at the man's rudeness, he took off his sunglasses and stepped inside. 

The lobby was filled with three more workers. One was repairing a rather large hole in the wall, and the other two were working on a radiator. He could also hear sounds of repairs coming from different parts of the building. The floor of the lobby was covered with tools, replacement parts, and broken glass from the chandeler. The wood floors were discolored in large streaks and spots and Ray knew the floor would have to be stripped down and repaired also. 

He wasn't quire sure *why* he was there, but knowing it probably had something to do with missing his best friend, he chose not to analyze it. 

"Oh my! Oh dear..." Turnbull fretted as he picked his way through the lobby carrying an armload of flies. When the tall mountie spied Ray, he stopped. "Detective Vecchio! What a pleasure to see you again. What brings you to Canada?" 

Ray shrugged. "I just wanted to see how everything was going." He looked around. "So, they finished their investigation?" 

"Oh, yes indeedy! Inspector Lombardi authorized the repairs to start yesterday. The work should be done in two weeks." Turnbull shifted the files to get a better grip on them, then almost dropped them. Ray leaned in and grabbed a few that Turnbull couldn't reach. 

"Thank you, sir." Turnbull nodded for Ray to follow him and headed towards Thatcher's office. The farther up the steps they went, the less destruction he saw until it looked like the upper part of the Consulate hadn't been touched by the explosions. Outside the door, Turnbull deposited his heavy load onto Orvitz's desk, beside three other identical stacks, with a sigh. He then took the files from Ray and added them to the stack. 

"What are all these for?" Ray asked, curious. 

"I'm trying to locate the boiler maintenance schedule. The insurance company needs the information and Inspector Lombardi wanted it yesterday." Turnbull seemed upset as he sat down and pulled a file from the top of one pile and started to go through it. 

Ray looked at the computer sitting on the desk. "Don't you guys ever use that thing?" He gestured towards it, and Turnbull looked at the computer, then him. 

"Oh yes, all of the Consulate's records are kept on disk, and also in the hard drive. We keep the paper files as backup." 

"Then *why* are you going through all the trouble to sift through the files?" 

Turnbull sighed, then leaned closer as if someone might overhear him. "I know a mountie should be prepared for everything, and I try," he took a deep breath as if admitting this was difficult for him, "but I can't seem to find what I'm looking for when I use it. I wish Constable Fraser was here." He wistfully added, as if having his hero there would make everything better. 

Ray tried to swallow, but it was difficult. "Yeah well, he'll be back soon enough." 

"Oh, do you really think so, sir?" Turnbull's face lit up at the thought. 

"You bet. This wasn't Fraser's fault and they know it." 

Turnbull nodded. "I never thought it was, sir." 

Ray sighed. "You don't have to keep calling me sir, Turnbull." 

Turnbull's expression sobered then. "I know. It just makes me feel like he's still here." 

Ray knew exactly how the tall mountie was feeling and nodded. He looked down and ran a hand over his hair. "How's the Inspector doing?" 

"Inspector Thatcher, sir? Inspector Lombardi says she's doing well. I'm hoping I'll be able to visit her soon. I used a friend's kitchen and made her some homemade minestrone soup. I'm sure that will do the trick to perk her right up!" 

Ray narrowed his eyes. "You haven't been to see her yet?" Not that hospitals were his favorite place either, but he thought her staff would have at least visited her since the accident. 

Turnbull blushed with embarrassment. "I want to, Detective Vecchio, but I've been told to stay away until after the Fitness Review Board sends someone to speak with her." 

"I thought they talked to her the other day?" Ray asked 

Turnbull shrugged. "I really wouldn't know, si-- Detective. I'm not privy about those things." He glanced towards the door to Thatcher's office as he spoke and Ray thought he seemed nervous. 

Lowering his voice, Ray spoke. "Is Lombardi still in there?" 

Turnbull nodded and whispered "So's Inspector Hackensaw." He then picked up another file and started to sift through the contents. Ray watched as he repeated the process with three other files before speaking again. 

"Where's whats-his-face? Isn't he Thatcher's lapdog? He could probably find what you're looking for." 

Turnbull looked up with a frown. "Most of the consulate staff haven't needed to report to work since the Consulate is in such disarray. I haven't heard from Mr. Orvitz since the accident, though I did leave a message for him on his answering machine yesterday." 

Ray thought about staying to help, but just then he heard Fish Breath bellow for Turnbull from behind the closed door. The last thing he needed was a run in with that particular Investigator. Ray watched as Turnbull practically leapt from his chair and stumbled past the desk to be of service, the one stack of files falling to the ground in the process. A brief look of irritation and frustration passed across the Mounties features as he glanced at the pile. It left as quickly as it came. The man really did look exhausted. Ray hoped that the suits would go back to Canada quickly so his friend could come home and things would get back to normal. 

"I'll talk to you later, Turnbull." Ray said as he made his way slowly up the hallway to the front of the Consulate. The mountie didn't even turn around as he straightened his tunic and disappeared through the door. 

Once at the bottom of the stairs, he couldn't help himself and started down the smaller hallway towards Fraser's office, for once not caring if his shoes got scuffed by the debris that seemed to grow deeper by the footfall, or if he ruined another suit. 

The door was open and Ray stepped into the room. The glass crunching beneath his feet sounded loud to his ears and he looked behind him before shutting the door. Had it only been a week since he'd been in here watching Fraser pack? Ray had been too preoccupied at the time to take a good look at the small room, but now he scanned it slowly. 

There was hardly any light coming through the boarded up window. One of the file cabinets had been knocked over, the files scattered across the floor. The top of his friend's desk was warped with dried water stains. Papers clung to the desk as the words meshed together where the ink bled. The only thing that seemed to remain untouched was a small pencil cup near the edge of the desk, full of pencils. The desk lamp laid in shards at his feet and the metal radiator was imbedded into the side of the desk at an angle, instead of against the far wall where it normally sat. It was obvious no one had gotten around to cleaning in there yet. 

Ray made his way to the closet and opened it. Nothing. It was then Ray realized that Fraser hadn't left any of his personal belongings. No clothes, no journals or books, it was as if Fraser hadn't even existed. Ray realized the bleakness that Fraser faced. The mountie didn't think he would be coming back, and packed accordingly. 

(_Please feel free to leave a feedback in the review section. That way I know ppl are actually reading this fic, and I'll devote more time to it than the one in my other fandom. Thanks.)_


	5. A Fic With No Name part 5

(Hi all, I know it's been a very long time since this fic has been updated, but I haven't forgotten it. Hope someone's still reading)

Turnbull started as he heard Inspector Hackensaw yelling at Inspector Lombardi through the closed door. Though he abhorred eavesdropping, he couldn't help but hear that Fraser was their topic of conversation. Glancing around to make certain no one was nearby; he quietly approached the door and placed his ear against it.

"How could you have let him have full access to the facilities? This building should have been locked down pending the investigation!" Inspector Hackensaw bellowed as he paced the room. "No wonder the boiler maintenance schedule is missing! At first I thought it was simply the incompetence of that idiot out there" Hackensaw jerked his thumb towards the door, "but now I see I have you to blame."

Inspector Lombardi drew himself up to his full height. Although he new Hackensaw could be a formidable enemy if he wanted to continue with his cushioned posts, he wasn't about to stand by and be called incompetent. "Clearly, Inspector, you have no proof that Constable Fraser is the one who tampered with the computer records—"

"Proof? You want proof? He's the one we're investigating and all of a sudden, poof! Not only are the computer files deleted, the disk backup's missing _and_ the paper file can't be found. If he isn't trying to cover his tracks then perhaps someone here is helping him!" Inspector Hackensaw thundered as he glared at the other man. After a moment he jerked away and paced towards the window gazing unseen at the street below.

"The fact that the records have been tampered with is proof enough." Hackensaw continued in a more subdued voice. "I'll need to inform Ottawa immediately and have in arrested." He finished, almost to himself.

Inspector Lombardi looked aghast. "You can't be serious! What if you're wrong?"

"What makes you think I'm wrong?"

"Everyone I've spoken to has had nothing but good things to say about Constable Fraser. He goes out of his way to help everyone he meets and he has a high record of—"

"This is also the man who turned in one of his own, Inspector." Hackensaw interrupted again. "He was banished to Chicago because no one else wanted him. I have more than I need to see him arrested and by God, I will!"

Turnbull backed away from the door, his face pale. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Resolution washed over his features and he all but marched over to his desk and picked up the phone. Punching in the number, he glanced back at the closed door as it rang on the other end.

"Vecchio" said the voice on the other end.

"Detective, this is Constable Turnbull. I think there's something you need to know…"


	6. A Fic With No Name part 6

_Meg twitched as distorted images flashed through her mind. Smoke, darkness, a searing pain. She saw Fraser's face hovering above her, talking to her but she couldn't make out the words. She tried to move, but couldn't. Pain seared her throat as all went black._

Meg woke with a start as her body was wracked in a coughing fit. She tried to lean to her side and felt strong hands support her. Once she'd quieted down, she closed her eyes in relief as she was laid back onto her pillows. A moment later a spoonful of ice chips were pressed to her lips which she gratefully took. It wasn't until after her body was back under control she realized whoever had helped her was still in the room. At first, she thought it was a nurse, but there was no bustling about to check her IV, or take her temperature.

Opening her eyes, Meg was taken aback by the person who stood there. She opened her mouth to speak, her voice a raspy whisper. "Detective Vecchio." Embarrassed at her helplessness, Meg steeled herself not to look away.

Ray took in the sight of the Dragon Lady for perhaps the first time since she'd been hospitalized. When he had been searching for Fraser he'd barely spared her a second glance. Had it only been nine days since the accident? He'd promised Benny he'd look out for her, but this is the first time he'd been here that she'd been awake. He could tell she was in a lot of pain. "How are you feeling?"

Meg gave a half-hearted shrug. "Where's Fraser?" she asked, hoping to finally have some answers. Ray studied her, wondering how much she knew.

"He's been sent back to Canada pending the investigation." Ray watched as Meg's expression changed from one of confusion to irritation.

"What do you mean—" she had to pause to make her throat work "Why was—" another coughing fit had Ray scrambling for the cup by her bed. He held a straw to her mouth as she gratefully drank.

"Benny blames himself for the boiler exploding. He turned himself in saying it was his fault you were injured. They temporarily relieved him of duty until they can get enough on him to nail him to the wall." Ray's contempt and anger shown through as he glared at her.

Meg turned her face away from the Detective as she absorbed his words. None of it made sense. Boiler… as if a wave crashed over her, everything came rushing back. The noises the boiler had been making, going to investigate it… "You were there. You and Fraser. He pulled me to safety". Her heart sped up as she looked at him stricken. "Fraser, is he alright? Did he get hurt?"

"He's fine, only a few minor burns."

"Why are they blaming him?" Meg asked, her voice barely audible with the strain she'd been using to make her voice work.

"Benny said you told him to check out the boiler." Meg saw regret flash through his eyes. "I asked him to come with me to check out a perp and convinced him it was more important. He blames himself for the accident." Anger colored his voice as he continued. "Now some jerks from Ottawa are trying to pin the entire incident on him. He didn't even _try_ to defend himself. They sent him home four days ago."

Meg shook her head. "It's not his fault. I'll tell them. They'll have to believe me."

"It's not as easy as all that." Ray sighed as he ran a hand over his head and paced to the window. After a moment he turned back to her. "Turnbull called me. He overheard Fishbreath -the investigator- talking to your replacement. It seems the boiler records have all come up missing. Someone purposely had to have taken them. The computer's wiped. The backups are gone. Even the papers. They're convinced Fraser took them to cover his tracks."

Meg scoffed as her anger rose. "Nonsense. Fraser would never do such a thing." She was angry enough that she managed to pull herself upright and started to slide her legs over the edge of the bed. Ray was by her side in an instant.

"What do you think you're doing?" He had to steady her by the arm as she swayed.

"I have to help him." She rasped as she tried to get the pain to lessen. Her legs felt like lead weights.

"You aren't in any shape to go anywhere, Inspector. Get back in bed." She shook her head no as a tight pain pressed in on her chest. It felt as if every breath were a struggle.

"Get your… hands off me, Detective… That's an order." She rasped out, though she knew her voice lacked the authority she hoped it would have wielded.

Ray actually smirked at her has he gently lifted her legs and with almost no effort got her settled back into the bed. "Sorry Inspector. I'm not one of your lapdogs. I promised Benny I'd look after you and I know he wouldn't want to see you out of this bed until the doctors say it's OK."

Meg was about to argue when a nurse walked into the room. "It's time for your breathing treatment Ms. Thatcher." She said as she pulled a machine up to the bed.

"That's Inspector Thatcher. She's an Inspector in the R.C.M.P." Ray corrected, feeling an odd sense of protectiveness towards the woman who could bust a man's balls before he could blink. Ray felt creepy chills go through him at the realization he was defending Thatcher. The things he would do for a friend.

"I'll come back later." Ray said as he took a step back from the bed. Meg managed to grab his arm.

"You'll need my help." She rasped and as the nurse tried to put a mask on her she batted it away. "It was technically…Canadian soil. You don't…have authority." She finished in barely a whisper. Ray started to argue but she cut him off. "Bring Turnbull…back with you."

Ray stared at her for a long moment before he gave a curt nod. "As long as you stay in that bed. Deal?"

Meg nodded as the mask was put on her. She watched him leave the room, and then closed her eyes, exhausted.


	7. A Fic With No Name part 7

A/N Sorry this is so short. Longer chapters to come.

Ben sighed as he stood on the small rise overlooking his father's cabin. Nothing had changed since the last time he'd been here. Dief whined, breaking the stillness, causing Ben to shift.

"I know. I don't like waiting any more than you do." Taking a deep breath, he headed towards his cabin. He'd been there five days now. Five days of not knowing how Meg was doing, if he would still be allowed to stay in the R.C.M.P. Not that he deserved to stay, he wryly told himself, but it was so much a part of him. A part of who he was. He truly didn't know what he'd do if he wasn't an officer of the law.

Of course, he had no one to blame but himself. Had he not neglected his duties to begin with none of this would have happened. _Stupid!_ he cursed, as he rounded the cabin and headed toward the wood pile. With a vicious tug, he yanked the ax out of the wood stump and put a thick log in its place. All his anger at himself, all his worry over his commanding officer, all the loneliness he felt at leaving his best friend behind, he channeled into his swing. The log split, pieces flying with force off the log stump. It wouldn't be so bad, he mused, if he had something to _do_. If he could track down the reprehensible villain and bring him to justice. Irony was thick as he realized he'd already done that. He himself was to blame. He himself was the wrong-doer.

Before he could continue to find berate himself a low humming off in the distance caught his attention. Ben straightened and watched, almost with a detached calmness, as a snow mobile approached. _So this is it_, he thought. _They must have decided what punishment I'm to receive_. In truth, it was almost a relief. Let his true punishment begin.

Shock colored his features as he realized who it was approaching. It couldn't be. His heart stopped with dread, then suddenly leapt to life. _Meg. _Something had to be terribly wrong. As the snow mobile stopped in front of him and the man pushed his goggles up on his forehead Ben fought to make his voice work. To ask the question he new he had to. But only one word would come out, encompassing all the anguish he was feeling into a plea.

"_Ray?"_


	8. A Fic With No Name part 8

A/N: Thank you everyone for your patience. RL and lack of a muse, plus a computer crashing and losing everything has made this fic take 4 years (next month) to post so far. This story is finished (in my mind) and just needs to be put on 'paper'. Of course, I had a wonderful twist I recently thought of, so it may change...

Anyway, please excuse any errors. I have no beta:( Hope you enjoy

Ray grinned broadly at his friend as he sat back on the snowmobile. "Well, it sure ain't Santa Claus". He watched Ben swallow hard as he walked toward him. The worry on his face, the dark circles under his eyes, spoke loudly.

"She's fine Benny. She's awake and madder than all hell."

Ben felt lightheaded as Ray's words registered and had to close his eyes. _Thank God_. Opening them, his confusion was evident. "What are you doing here?"

The smile on Ray's face faded as he studied his friend. He wasn't even sure how to broach the subject. He knew once he told Ben, his friend would not stop at anything to find justice. Taking a deep breath, he climbed off the snowmobile and walked the few steps separating the two of them.

"Thatcher's accident was no accident." Ray stated slowly.

Ben's jaw clenched and he had to turn away. "I know that, Ray. That's why I'm here, waiting to be charged," he ground out. "You didn't have to come all this way to tell me that." Although he tried to keep his voice even as he spoke, he couldn't help feeling hurt. Up until now, Ray had been the loudest one championing him. The first one to say it was an accident. Although Ben knew he was at fault, a small voice inside him clung to the fact that it was accidental. He didn't intentionally set out to hurt the woman he--.

Ben forced himself away from that line of thought. But for his friend to travel all this way to throw it in his face… For him to turn his back… He couldn't face Ray. He couldn't. Blinking hard, Ben started walking towards his cabin.

"Benny!" Ray called as he quickly followed. "Damn it Fraser, stop!" He yelled as he reached his friend and spun him around. "You didn't do this to Thatcher! Listen to me. All the records, the files, the computer backup, are gone. Someone took them. The suits think you did to cover your tracks."

Ray watched as Ben's face changed. Self loathing, confusion, enlightenment, anger.

"Are you certain?" The words were softly spoken, but the menace behind them was clear.

Ray nodded. "Turnbull called me when he overheard Fishbreath talking. He's ready to hang you. We know you didn't do it, but he won't even look at anyone else. I spoke to Thatcher and she—"

"How is she, Ray? Is she…" _In pain, scarred, disappointed with me_ "…is she well?" Ben asked, speaking around the lump in his throat. By God, if she didn't recover fully from this, he would kill the bastard behind this.

Ray paused only slightly, but Ben noticed. "She's better. She's the reason I'm here right now. She has Turnbull looking to see if anything else is missing. It's taking some time though. Most of the staff's on leave while the repairs are being done, and since it was someone with access to the files—"

"We don't know who we can trust." Ben finished.

"Exactly. So how long will it take you to get packed? I got a plane waiting for us 20 miles from here." Ray jerked his head toward the cabin and started walking in that direction, Dief bounding around him excitedly. Ray would swear the wolf had something akin to hero-worship in his expression at the thought of going back to civilization. When he noticed Fraser not following him, he looked back questioningly.

"I can't leave Canada, Ray. Any day now someone will show up to officially arrest me."

Ray stomped back to his friend. "And what? You're gonna let him? We need to Fraser. We gotta find out who took those records, and why. _Thatcher_ wants you there."

When Ben still didn't reply Ray sighed and struggled to pull off his glove before unzipping his jacket and fishing around. After a moment, he pulled out a crinkled, folded, piece of paper. Wordlessly, he handed it to his friend, then moved away to give him some privacy.


	9. A Fic With No Name part 9

Ray shivered beneath his many layers of clothing as he trudged towards Ben's cabin. Cursing as he foot sank into snow up to his knee, he again wondered why anyone would choose to live in the – very cold- middle of nowhere. No sooner had he opened the door did Dief rush past him into the warmth, almost knocking him down in the process.

"Hey! Watch it'" he grumbled as he stomped the snow off his boots and headed straight for the wood stove.

Fraser could dig his heels in all he wanted, thought Ray, but after coming all the way up here there was no way he was going home sans mountie. He'd trank Fraser's ass if he needed to and drag him to the plane. Not wanting to be stuck out here when night fell, he set his resolve as he looked around the small cabin.

When Ben finally entered the cabin, he was met with the sight of Ray trying to stuff his belongings into his rucksack. As he stood watching, Ray straightened and gave him a look of such fierce determination it actually took him aback. With a glance Ben knew his clothes would be horribly wrinkled with the way Ray was cramming them into the bag. One quicker look at his friend confirmed that now was not a good time to instruct Ray on proper packing techniques to maximize the limited use of space. Without a word, he strode over to a shelf and took down a small wooden box. Hand outstretched, he waited while Ray stared at him. After a moment Ray took the box and stuffed it in the bag.

"It's about time," Ray groused, but Ben had to stifle a smile as he noted the relief in his friend's voice.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Turnbull practically leapt from his seat with joy as he saw his commanding officer walk slowly up the stairs.

"Inspector!" He beamed with a goofy smile, even as he stood rigidly at attention. "What are you doing out of the hospital? We didn't get word of your being discharged or I would have picked you up myself."

'Probably because I wasn't discharged', Meg thought as she forced her legs to keep moving. The burns on them had caused the skin to become tight, making even the simplest of movements awkward and painful. 'Better to not let on though', she thought. The last thing she needed was for him to go into full mother hen mode.

Meg offered him a tight-lipped smile as she gestured to the chair behind his desk.

"Oh! Of course." He scrambled to pull the chair out for her. "I suppose you'll want to speak with Inspector Lombardi so you can catch up on everything." He surmised as he held the chair while she slowly sat. She had barely let out a sigh of relief when he continued.

"I'll go get him."

Meg managed to grab his arm before he could pull away. The last thing she needed was for her replacement to realize she wasn't in the hospital any longer. She couldn't even officially request to resume her post since a doctor hadn't cleared her to resume her duties. She grimaced as, truth be told, the only thing she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

"No, Turnbull" Meg croaked out. "It's best if no one knows I'm here for now." She spoke slowly as she looked meaningfully at him. "Don't you agree?"

Turnbull was silent for a few moments, no doubt weighing what he was being asked. He straightened and slowly nodded. His friend was in trouble and it was up to them to clear his name and find the true miscreant.

"Yes. Perhaps you're right."

Meg hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath, but now let it out in a whoosh. "Good. Did you get what I asked for?"

Turnbull nodded and reached towards his desk drawer. "I've reviewed the footage from the video feeds that weren't damaged since the accident, and made a list of everyone who's been in the building since the…" he hesitated.

"The explosion?" Meg offered with a wry smile. "You can talk about it Turnbull, I'm not made of glass."

He blushed and cleared his throat. "Yes sir. Here's the list." Meg stared at the nearly half inch thick stack of papers, each containing quite a few names. "As you can see, with the repair persons included it proves a somewhat daunting list. It's been two weeks since the… explosion and I've concentrated most of my attention to the time period up to when we discovered the files missing." Turnbull finished as he placed the stack in front of Meg and stood back, at attention.

Taking a deep breath, Meg steeled her resolve. "Very well. Let's get started."


	10. A Fic With No Name part 10

Ray pressed himself flat against the wall of the hospital corridor as  
he cautiously peered around the corner. Ducking back, he waited a  
moment while an orderly went into a room down the hall, and then  
checked again.

"Clear" he whispered and disappeared around the corner. A moment  
later, a tall ficus plant, which oddly appeared to be wearing a RCMP  
issued hat, rustled around the corner after him. They (Ray and  
the plant) made it about halfway down the hallway before a door ahead  
opened. Both stopped quickly and Ray leaned against the wall,  
whistling, while a nurse gave him a strange look, as well as a wide  
berth. Once she turned the corner, both moved down the hallway again.  
All in all, it didn't take long for the unlikely pair to slip into  
room 402.

Tossing the plant into a corner, Ben listened at the door a moment.  
Satisfied the coast was clear, he turned with a sigh towards an empty  
bed. Both stood there for a moment, before Ray opened the door and  
rechecked the room number.

"Maybe they moved her?" Ray looked at Ben, not liking the worry that  
he briefly saw. "Stay here, I'll ask." Without waiting for a reply,  
Ray left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Ben slowly wandered around the room, remembering all the time he  
spent sitting in the orange chair beside the bed. The bed had been  
stripped bare. No personal effects were in the room. It was as if  
Margaret Thatcher had never even been there. He turned as the door  
opened. Taking one look at Ray's face, he knew he wasn't going to  
like what his friend has to say.

Turnbull hurried to answer the door of Inspector Thatcher's  
apartment. She's just fallen asleep not a half hour earlier, and he  
didn't want her waking from her power nap' as she called it. He  
wasn't sure what was going on, but to him, it didn't look like she  
should have been discharged from the hospital. After she'd shown up  
at the consulate yesterday, and they'd started through the list of  
persons who had access to the consulate, he'd been called away  
repeatedly by Inspector Lombardi, or Hackensaw.

Wisely, they decided to adjourn until after his shift was officially  
over, and he managed to sneak the Inspector out and hail a taxi. Once  
he'd arrived last evening he knew he couldn't leave her with as much  
pain as she'd been in. It seemed he would be facing many moral  
dilemmas with his decision to help his friends. This morning he told  
his first ever fib to a commanding officer when he called in sick for  
work.

Opening the door, Turnbull stared but a moment before breaking into a  
wide smile as he lunged towards Ben and embraced him with all he was  
worth. "Sir! I'm so happy to see you!" he beamed, as he sniffed, holding back tears. Ben managed to pry himself loose and handed the man a kerchief.

"It's good to see you also, Turnbull. I take it Inspector Thatcher's  
here?" He asked casually, while inside his was anything but calm.  
After Ray informed him that she'd simply disappeared' from the  
hospital there was a moment when he knew his heart simply stopped. It  
was very much like her though, he mused, to not want to be  
incapacitated in a fashion. They immediately headed to her apartment.  
He didn't want to think of the possibility that she wouldn't be there.

Turnbull stood back and let the two of them enter "Yes sir. She was  
discharged yesterday from the hospital but I didn't think it wise to  
leave her alone. She… seems to be having some difficulty" he  
finished, barely above a whisper.

"Discharged?" Ray snorted, "Yeah ri-"

"Ray" Ben cut him off. "It was very commendable of you to stay with  
her Turnbull." He looked around the living room. Turnbull answered  
his unvoiced question. "She's sleeping, Sir. Just laid down about a  
half hour ago. I… didn't want to wake her yet, but I know she's  
anxious to see you." The tall man was obviously torn between what to  
do.

"No worries, Turnbull. Let's let her rest for a bit." Ben murmured,  
but he couldn't help his gaze from being drawn to the hallway, where  
he knew her bedroom had to lay. "I'm just going to freshen up." He  
finished as he placed his rucksack beside the sofa. He was already  
heading towards the hallway when he heard Turnbull ask after  
Diefenbaker. Ray's explanation of dropping him off at the Vecchio  
household faded as he passed the washroom on the right and paused at  
the last door on the left.

Taking a deep breath, Fraser barely touched the door with his  
knuckles before gently turning the knob.


	11. A Fic With No Name part 11

PART 9 

It took Ben a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, but there she was. He felt a hollow twist in his gut as he quietly moved toward the bed. She looked so fragile. He could barely believe she'd been able to sneak out of the hospital.

The only thing Ben wanted to do was hold her in his arms and never let go. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to turn away and let her rest, though what he wanted – more than anything – was to hear her speak to him.

As he reached for the doorknob he heard a rustling from the bed.

"Fraser" Meg rasped, thinking she had to be dreaming. If it weren't for the pain she was in, she'd have no choice but to believe it. She watched as he paused and hesitantly turned towards her again.

Relief welled through her as she looked at him. He was here and that's all that mattered. Forcing a small smile, she spoke. "You look like hell."

Ben was frozen by the door. He never meant to wake her, but now that she was awake; the relief of having her chastise him! He wasn't certain of his welcome. She told him he looked like hell and he realized how much he missed her.

Clearing his throat he took a few steps towards the bed. "Yes Sir, I suppose I do." He agreed.

Meg held her hand out and Ben gently held it in his. She tugged him closer still, and he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, trying not to jar her.

"I'm not going to die, Fraser. You don't have to look at me like that." Meg joked, grateful to feel his strong, warm hand encasing hers.

Ben looked down at their twined fingers. "I'm sorry." He choked out. "I didn't… I never intended for you to get hurt."

Meg shook her head. "It's not your fault, Ben.-" She coughed and looked towards the cup of water on the nightstand. Ben quickly reached for it and held her up while she drank. He carefully eased her back to her pillow when she was finished.

Meg let out a sigh as she looked up at him. "Someone set you up, Ben. The files… everything, is missing. We need to find who…"

"I know Sir." Ben replied, though he still knew he was ultimately responsible for not checking out the boiler when she asked.

Meg grimaced and Ben twisted slightly so he could take in the rest of her, though the blanket covered her legs. "You know, Turnbull is under the assumption that you were discharged from the hospital," he paused, watching the play of emotions across her face. The first being panic, and he knew she was trying to think of a suitable story. "I believe we both know that's not the case." He finished, and watched as she accepted the fact that she wasn't going to be able to pull the wool over his eyes. Instead, she gave him a small smile.

"I don't think he needs to know all the details." Meg said, hoping he'd agree. The last thing she wanted was for Turnbull to go into a panic.

"When was the last time your dressings were changed?" Ben asked, and had to suppress a smile when he saw her fidget. "I thought so." He also noted how tired she was. He reached for the Motrin on her nightstand and poured two into his hand. He handed them to her and helped her sit up again, all without a word. Reaching over, he grabbed the cup and held it to her lips again. Once he settled her in he straightened and took two steps away from the bed.

"In the morning I'll change your bandages." He stated, and for once he was the one in charge. Meg opened her mouth but before she could protest he cut her off. "It's either that, or I get Turnbull in her to do it."

Meg closed her mouth and after a moment, Ben nodded once and headed for the door. When he was in the hallway he turned to look back. "Rest. We'll get to the bottom of this." Meg nodded and her eyes started to drift shut. In a more quiet voice, he added, "I received your letter. Thank you." Before she could reply he gently closed the door.


	12. A Fic With No Name part 12

Just wanted to take a moment and thank all who are reading for their patience, and for those who leave FB for taking a moment to do so. I really wouldn't mind if after reading you'd care to drop a note. Love it? Hate it? I know you're out there, I can hear your breathing. 

Name Fic 12

Ray leaned back against the sofa, closing his eyes with an exhausted sigh. "It's like trying to find a needle in the haystack!" He groused to himself as he tossed another list on the seat beside him.

"How are we ever gonna check out all of these people?" he continued. "If we don't find out who stole those files before someone finds out Benny's no longer in Canada—"

"We'll find him," Meg cut in as she slowly made her way into the living room. "I don't believe we need to concentrate on the workers doing the repairs," she continued as she gingerly sat on the chair across from him.

"Whoever stole them knew where we kept the files, as well as had access to the computer's storage drive." Meg grimaced as the thought of adding the next part. "And I have reason to believe I may have been the target."

Ray stared at her silently, all his cop instincts adding together what she didn't say and filling in the blanks. "This isn't the first incident that's happened, is it?"

Meg shook her head and swallowed, trying to ease the scratchiness of her throat. "At first I didn't think anything of it. Only little things would happen: Files not where I thought I'd left them, occasional reports missing right before a deadline to Ottawa. Sometimes I could have sworn my desk had been rifled through."

"Then other things started to happen. I'd go to leave at night and my tire would be flat, or…" Meg hesitated, loathe to admit what came next "Sometimes I'd get the feeling I was being watched but I never saw anyone."

Ray ran a hand over his closely shaved head, then down his face. "Why didn't you say anything before now?" He demanded, frustration pouring from him.

Meg bristled at his tone. "The incidents happened over a period of months, Detective, at first they appeared random," she snapped. "And do forgive me," her voice dripping with sarcasm, "but with the pain medication the hospital had me on, I wasn't exactly thinking straight."

Swallowing, Meg looked down as she fidgeted with the arm of the chair. The last thing she wanted was for Fraser to know she had her suspicions; and that's all they were at this point. She knew there was no logical reason to keep the information from him, but she was his commanding officer. The last thing she wanted was to appear weak before her men. As a woman though… she had to admit she'd like nothing more than to be wrapped in Ben's arms and let someone else be in charge for a change.

She cleared her throat. "Detective… at this point in the investigation, I don't believe it's necessary to share this information with… anyone else," she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as unsure as she thought it did.

Meg glanced up at him to try and gauge his acceptance but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking over her left shoulder to be precise. Her heart stopped, and then lurched into motion again three times its normal speed.

"Too late," Vecchio said softly, then cleared his throat. "About time you're done in the Can," he said as he awkwardly got to his feet in haste." I'm going to… um… yeah." He finished lamely as he headed down the hall.

It wasn't until after the bathroom door closed that Meg heard Ben move further into the room. She was surprised when he didn't immediately come over to her, instead going into her kitchen.

She heard the clink of ice cubes and water running before he reappeared. Handing her the glass, he sat on the coffee table in front of her.

"Drink." His tone gave nothing of his thought away as his eyes followed the trail of the cup going to her lips. She sighed in relief after draining half the glass.

"Thank you."

His head dipped slightly in acknowledgement as he watcher her in silence. After another moment or two he spoke. "You didn't want me to know." It was a statement, his low voice sending a ripple of awareness through her.

Meg shivered in response to her body's pull that this man caused in her. His hair was still damp from his shower. Freshly shaved, she had to force herself not to look away, yet hoped he couldn't see the longing in her eyes. "No," she said quietly.

Another moment of silence and Meg knew she had to try and explain. "Fraser, as your commanding officer, I –"

"You didn't want to appear weak." He broke in, and she was surprised – though she couldn't imagine why – how well he understood her.

"Yes."

"You are the strongest Inspector I know," he started, his eyes piercing, his voice gravelly in its sincerity. She watched in silence as he reached for her hand, caressing her palm with his thumb as he lazily traced circles. "The Strongest woman I know."

She looked up from their joined hands and her breath caught at the feral look in his eyes.

"I almost lost you once, Meg, there won't be a repeat."

Meg's mind scattered as she stared, wide-eyed, at him. How many times has she lay away at night dreaming of this very moment? As much as she wanted nothing more than to lean towards him and kiss him senseless; their rant still stood between them.

"I'm your commanding officer, Fraser." She all but whispered, telling herself it was the way of things and couldn't be changes. She wasn't prepared when he slowly shook his head no, a predatory light in his eyes she'd never seen there before. Meg found herself not able to breathe as her body tingled.

It was unnerving being the prey.

"You are no longer my commanding officer, Meg," Ben murmured, "At least, for now." He added with a small smile.

He leaned towards her, following her as she pressed back against the chair; her chest heaving as his face came within inches of hers. She watched his eyes drop down to her lips and she couldn't stop her tongue from darting out to moisten them. His gave flew to hers again and she was on fire.

_He is going to kiss me,_ she thought. Satisfaction flared to life in his gaze as he leaned in, his lips hovering above her own, his breath hot and moist across her flesh. Meg arched up toward him just as the front door opened and Turnbull stumbled in, his arms loaded with bags.

Ben pulled back slightly and stared at her a moment longer: Frustration, but mostly heated promise in his eyes as he stood.

Only when he turned to greet the other Mountie did Meg find herself able to breathe again.

A moment later, Detective Vecchio came out from the hallway and Meg's face heated; thinking of what she – they – almost did when anyone could have –

Her thoughts stalled as a pair of firm legs clad in denim stepped in front of her. Her eyes traveled north resting momentarily on a very impressive juncture before she forced her gaze on; past flannel draped over a broad, lean chest; past lips that begged her to forget propriety and kiss him, damn the consequences, to a pair of eyes laced with heat and humor.

Belatedly, she realized he was holding medical supplies. Her eyes flew back to his as a smile tipped the edges of those sinful lips.

"I believe it's time to change your bandages," he murmured, and again, Meg found herself falling.


	13. A Fic With No Name part 13

Hi all (again) Thanks to all who are reading, and especially those who've sent comments! HugZ going out to all of you. Ironically, I was looking at my stats and there have been 4,148 people who've logged onto this fic. Even if half were repeats that's still over 2000 people! And... 41 reviews. Somehow that seems a bit disheartening. But hey, at least people are READING, right?? And I'm assuming they LIKE the story or chapters 2 through 12 wouldn't have had as many hits as they did, right?? So, to all of you lurking out there smile here's the next part (remember: no throwing otters)

zzzaney

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"Turnbull!" Inspector Hackensaw bellowed as he sat behind his temporary desk in the Canadian Consulate – Chicago. So far, though his investigation had turned up n hard evidence against Constable Fraser, all the circumstantial evidence pointed to him with glaring alacrity. Hell, the man even admitted he was derelict in carrying out his duties. Add to that his past indiscretions in the man's personnel file and he was convinced he had the right man.

Hackensaw snorted '_even if the man were innocent – this time – he did enough in the past that he should have been kicked out of the R.C.M.P. ages ago_'. Looking around the office with disdain he started to question Inspector Thatcher's ability to run the consulate. Obviously she didn't keep a sharp eye on her senior staff.

"Turnbull!" The man bellowed again as he started to open desk drawers, searching for correction tape. The bottom drawer on the right was locked though, and he tugged on it harder. When it still didn't budge, he looked around for something to jimmy the lock.

Spying the metal letter opener, it only took him a matter of moments to force the drawer open. He stared at the drawer's only content for a moment before picking it up.

A broken lanyard? Who in their right mind would bother to lock up a piece of string? Giving the frayed edge another look, he realized that the lanyard had been cut, not broken on its own. He shook his head as he tossed it onto the desk. _These people were so weird._

"Turnbull!" Hackensaw bellowed for the last time, his control at an end. This time he was going to chew the inept constable out so badly he would have the man in tears. Stomping into the hallway he all but ran into Inspector Lombardi.

"May I help you, Inspector?" Lombardi asked as politely as he could. In the past two weeks he'd been assigned here, Hackensaw had gone out of his way to try and browbeat the staff that they'd been able to contact into admitting wrongdoing against Constable Fraser.

Mostly all of the staff had the same things to say about the man. He was strange but loyal to a fault. And he got the job done. Lombardi started to think that Hackensaw was looking at the wrong man, but the one time he tried to bring the subject up, Hackensaw threatened to bring charges against him for interfering in an investigation. Lombardi forced himself to smile politely while the other man fumed.

"Where is Turnbull?" Hackensaw all but growled; his jaw clenched tightly.

"Unfortunately, _Constable_ Turnbull has been ill and has called off work for the past two days. I'm sure we can assign someone else –"

"I'll?" Hackensaw cut in.

Lombardi stared at him a moment, then repeated more slowly. "Yes, Inspector, ill. And since Constable Turnbull has more than enough sick time accrued, I don't see what the problem is."

Hackensaw glared at the man, then his expression changed. Lombardi rather likened it to a child just being given a treat. When he smiled – which Lombardi found even more disturbing – he only just managed not to shudder.

"Tell me, Lombardi, don't you think it rather odd that a man who'd – up until this point – hasn't taken any sick leave in his entire career? A fact he so helpfully pointed out during his interview? And how – out of the blue is sick two days?"

Lombardi was saved from answering by the ringing of the phone. Thankful for the distraction, he all but lunged at the desk.

"Canadian Consulate….speaking…." Lombardi busied himself by looking at some mail on the desk so he wouldn't have to look at Hackensaw. "Beg pardon…yes. That's fine. Just send the paperwork here." Lombardi slowly hung up the phone and turned back to Hackensaw.

"That was the hospital. Apparently sometime in the last 24 hours Inspector Thatcher left the hospital without being properly discharged. They believe it happened during a shift change and since a room change ordered to a different floor – for less critical patients - beforehand, it wasn't until the morning when the day shift returned that they determined she was gone."

Hackensaw paced to the window while digesting that bit of news. "Missing Constable, missing Inspector. They're up to something – mark my words. Get me Thatcher's address. It's time I paid her a little visit." He glanced back at Lombardi, a twisted smile on his lips.


	14. A Fic With No Name part 14

Ahh... The kids have opened their gifts, the dishes are done, and I have a small moment before getting ready for work tomorrow to post the next part of this fic. Note: There was a part between these two, which seems to have been lost. After months of searching, I modified this part a bit and decided to just move on. I tried, but just couldn't manage to reproduce it. Sigh.

Anyway, Merry Christmas 2007 all! Hope you have a safe and happy holiday season.

zozozozozozozozo

Meg sat on the window seat in her bedroom staring into the street below. It had been two days since she's seen Fraser. Two days since Hackensaw, 'Fishbreath', as Detective Vecchio was wont to call him, barged into her apartment as if she were a criminal. When this was over and Fraser was cleared, Meg thought, she was going to make sure a complaint was filed against the odious man.

Frustration poured from her. She should be out _doing_ something. But no, except for a note yesterday morning from Vecchio saying they were following up on a lead and for her to stay there so they could contact her, she'd been doing nothing but cooling her heels. If she didn't know any better she'd swear it was just Fraser's way to make sure she rested.

Bah! Meg stood and started to pace her bedroom; frustrated that such a simple thing was difficult. Her legs hurt as she slowly walked the room. Burned skin stretched tight while it healed. Grudgingly, she knew he was right. She was in no condition to be out in the field. Still, there had to be something she could do to help.

She and Turnbull had been over the tapes a dozen times, been over the personnel files they'd copied nearly as much. There was _nothing_ to point to who may have sabotaged the boiler or stolen the files. Tomorrow he was going back to the consulate to be their eyes and ears. She heard the buzzer for the front door and then Turnbull on the speaker. Her heart sped as she made her way to the door, hoping it was Fraser. She walked into the living room and was about to ask who was coming up when a knock sounded and Turnbull readily opened the door.

"Mr. Orvitz! How nice of you to visit." Turnbull beamed as he stepped back to let the other man into the room. To be honest, it was the last person Meg expected to see. "I've been trying to get hold of you for weeks," Turnbull continued, "I've been having the devil of a time fi---"

"Turnbull." Meg interrupted before he could give away anything about their private investigation. "Mr. Orvitz, I'm surprised to see you. What brings you here?" She asked calmly as she sat on a chair, gesturing for him to have a seat.

Orvitz had been looking around the apartment, his expression unreadable, but when Meg spoke turned his attention back to her with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he sat. "I've been out of town visiting my cousin. Once I returned, I went by the consulate and was told you were out of the hospital." He paused as he seemed to look Meg over causing her stomach to somersault, but she didn't know why. There was something about him that seemed… off.

"I simply wanted to see how you were doing for myself, and to offer my services if you need them."

Meg dipped her head in acknowledgement. "That's very kind of you, Orvitz. As you can see though I'm almost fully recovered." Meg lied, wishing her voice wasn't as hoarse as she knew it was. "I'll probably be resuming my duties by the end of the week. Are you planning to return to the consulate?"

Orvitz sat back in his chair, confident in his posture, as he met her gaze. "I'll be around." He stated softly.

Meg's heart raced, though she couldn't imagine why it should. She was perfectly safe sitting in her living room and Turnbull was only a few feet away, apparently unaware of the tension in the room. Taking a deep breath, Meg straightened and fell into command mode.

"Well, I'm very busy, Orvitz, and I'm sure you have things to do since you've been out of town for so long. Thank you for stopping by. Turnbull will see you out." She dismissed him and turned to reach for a book on the side table, while still watching him from the corner of her eye. She was aware when he hesitated and she thought his eyes narrowed but when she faced him again, in challenge, his expression was blank.

He gave her a smile that bordered on a smirk as he rose slowly. "I see your brush with death hasn't changed the way you treat others, Inspector."

Meg tossed the book back onto the table, lest he see how her hands trembled. She ignored the twinges of pain as she stood to her full height to stare him down. "Is there something you want to say to me, Orvitz?" she demanded frostily.

Turnbull stepped forward, hesitant to step into his superior officers conversation but determined to not let her overexert herself. He'd find out soon enough if he had made a mistake. "Mr. Orvitz, let me show you out."

Orvitz stared at Meg a moment longer before turning and following the Mountie to the door.

Meg watched the door close and a shudder of relief coursed through her so strong she thought her legs would collapse. "Sir, are you alright?" Meg hadn't been aware that Turnbull was at her side until he helped her into the chair. She hugged her arms tight to her chest while she fought for control. She couldn't let her men see her weak.

"I'm fine, Turnbull." She managed to choke out, "Just a little tired."

"Perhaps you should lay down for a bit. I'll make you a pot of tea. Chamomile. My mother said it always does the trick for her when she needs to—"

"Turnbull," Meg glared at him. "Do I remind you of your mother?"

Turnbull swallowed as he snapped to attention. "Yes Sir! I-I mean, no Sir. It-it's just I-I—"

Meg sighed as she realized he was only trying to help. "Tea sounds fine Turnbull. Perhaps I will lay down for a bit."

Meg waved him away when he went to help her stand and slowly made her way to the bedroom.

"I'll have that tea ready for you in a jiffy." He said as he watched her bedroom door close. As soon as he was certain she wasn't coming back out he walked to the phone and punched in a number.


	15. A Fic With No Name part 15

Still reading? Like it? Hate it? Let me know...

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Ray Vecchio warily eyed his friend as he propped himself on the windowsill at the 2-4. The Mountie hadn't stopped pacing since they'd received a phone call from Turnbull an hour ago and it was starting to draw the attention of the others in the 2-4's bullpen. Not that anyone there knew the Mountie wasn't supposed to be in Chicago, but why draw the extra attention?

"At least we've got a good lead," Ray offered, but Fraser barely paused in his pacing before continuing on again.

"I swear when we get enough evidence against him I'm going to kill him myself." Ben muttered before turning to fully face Ray. "Why are we waiting here again? We are less than two miles from that bastard's apartment."

Ray noted with some irony that for once, he was the one trying to follow the law while the normally staid Mountie was chomping at the bit for some vigilante justice. "You're the one who insisted on doing this the right way, remember? I was all for going and asking some 'unofficial' questions." Of course, that had been **before** they had received the phone call.

Ben muttered something Ray couldn't catch and was about to start pacing again when the door opened.

"Elaine!" Ray beamed as he strode up to her and gave her a hug. "You look great! How long's it been now?" He asked as he held her at arms length to peruse her.

"Too long." Elaine agreed. "Hey Fraser, how've you been?"

"Damn, Elaine, the uniform really suits you." Ray cut in with a smile.

"I'm fine, Elaine. It's good to see you again." Ben managed a small smile for the woman who used to help them at the 2-7. She'd passed her police exam a couple of years back and had been assigned to the 2-4. He hadn't seen her in ages.

"Sorry to keep you waiting for so long. I was in the middle of processing a junkie when they called me upstairs. So what's up?" Elaine looked from one tall man to the other, noting the strain on their faces, and knew something was wrong.

Ray rubbed the back of his neck. "You remember what happened at the Canadian Consulate last month?"

"Yeah." She turned to Ben. "How's you boss doing? Is she out of the hospital yet?"

"She's better, thank you. That's why we're here." Ben swallowed as he shot a quick glance at Ray. "We need your help."

"Off the record" Ray added as he gave her a meaningful look.

"We'll understand if you say no." Ben added as he worried the brim of his Stetson between his hands. "Asking an offic—"

"Just tell me what you need." Elaine cut in. These were her friends; her family really. She knew they wouldn't ask her to do something unofficially unless they had no other choice. She also knew they were good men.

Ben let out an audible breath as his shoulders relaxed. "It's a long—"

"Fraser. Do you wanna be here all day?" Ray asked.

Ben cleared his throat as color crept up his neck. "Perhaps you should fill her in."

Elaine looked from one to the other and barely resisted rolling her eyes. Some things just never changed.

"Here's the deal" Ray started as he leaned closer, not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation.

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Elaine frowned as Ray finished telling her everything they knew. "Of course I'll help, but…"

Both men looked at her intently and she shook her head. "Orvitz? It just seems like I heard that name somewhere before." They watched as she tented her fingers and put them to her lips as she looked down, pacing the floor. After a moment she glanced around the pen, then approached a man sitting at a nearby desk.

"Hey Remi, let me use your computer a sec." She asked as she put on a disarming smile.

"You got one downstairs, Besbriss, use that one." Remi's tone was clipped and he didn't bother to look up from the keyboard.

"Oh come one, just for a minute. I'll be really quick." She cajoled as Remi stopped typing and glared at her.

"Now you wanna act sweet because you want something but it ain't gonna fly. I've been asking you out for months and you keep turning me down. So screw you too."

Elaine glared at him but before she could get him a set down another voice broke in.

"Hey shit-head. Why don't you go back to playing with your blow-up doll and leave the rest of us grown-ups to pick up your slack."

Ben, Ray and Elaine all turned to see a tall man with spiky blond hair walk past them to his own desk, as he threw a couple of files on top of an already large pile.

"Why don't you go screw yourself, Kowalski," Remi returned, and Kowalski gave an unmistakable gesture. Muttering, Remi turned back to his computer and started banging on the keys.

Elaine glanced at Ben and Ray before walking over to Kowalski's desk. "Hey Ray, mind if I use your computer?" She asked. Ray Kowalski looked at her a moment while he chewed on the end of a toothpick hanging from his mouth.

"Who're friends?" He jerked his head in their direction.

"Oh, right. You haven't been around in a while." She motioned towards them. "This is Detective Ray Vecchio from the 2-7, and Constable Benton Fraser. He's with the Canadian Consulate."

"I've heard of you," Ray Kowalski said as he offered his hand. "Stan Kowalski. Most people call me Ray. Or Kowalski. Take your pick."

"Stan Kowalski?" Ray snorted as the blond man sent him a glare.

Ben shook the man's hand as he cocked his head to the side, puzzled. "Have we met before? You seem somewhat familiar?"

"Naw, not me. Been undercover for the past year or so."

Ben studied him for a moment longer before nodding. "It can be difficult being undercover. Especially when you're far from family and friends. Some say a man can even lose himself if he's undercover for too long."

Kowalski seemed ill at ease with the Mountie's observation and turned to Elaine. "Feel free to use the computer. I gotta take a piss anyway." He said tersely as he left as quickly as he'd come.

As he walked away without a backwards glance, Ray snorted, "Gee, nice guy."

Elaine gave him an admonishing look. "He is a nice guy. He's just having a hard time adjusting to being back. I'd only been here a couple of months when the feds had him go undercover with the mob." She said as she typed away at the computer. Her typing slowed for a moment as she reflected. "He was different then, always went out of his way to make a person feel welcome. Make me feel welcome," she added quietly. "His time undercover couldn't have been easy, and I'm sure there are things even he doesn't want to admit. Now it's like he doesn't want to get close to anyone. Rarely talks to anyone, anyway."

"Ah, here it is. I knew the name sounded familiar. Is it John Orvitz? 1658 Gramley Dr. Apt. 6 H?" She asked.

"That's him," Ben murmured as they leaned over her shoulder to read the screen. After a moment Ben stood up so quickly you could hear his spine snap. "Oh. Oh my. Well, that…" He tugged at his ear and cracked his neck before taking a deep breath. "I suppose this does put a bit of a monkey wrench in our plans."

"No friggen way…" Ray muttered, astonished, as he stood and ran a hand over his cropped hair, giving Ben a wide-eyed look. "He's pitching for the other team."

Elaine had a wide smile as she looked at the two of them. "So which one of you are going to volunteer to get 'close' to him, hm?" She all but laughed.

Fraser, back to business missed the humor in her voice. "I'm afraid he knows me too well to be fooled by a disguise. You've also been around the Consulate many times so we'll… just have to find another plan." He finished with a sigh.

"Maybe not." Elaine looked at the two men. "We can get someone from here to get close to him."

Ray shook his head as he looked at the screen again. "This is 'unofficial', Elaine. Besides, look at this sheet. He's been busted for solicitation six times. I don't know how he kept that from the Dragon Lady but—"

"Ray!" Ben cut in with a warning.

"Ok, ok, Thatcher, but he'll probably recognize most of the guys in vice anyway."

"Not… everyone…"

Both men turned a puzzled look to Elaine but she was looking towards the back of the bull pen. Following her gaze, they saw Detective Stan Kowalski strolling towards them with a cup of coffee in one hand, a bag of Smarties in the other. As he neared the desk he poured half a pack of the candy into the coffee. Noticing the three of them looking at him he stopped.

"What?"

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	16. A Fic With No Name part 16

"No. No way." Ray Kowalski said, yet again, as he tried to dodge the three very persistent people following him through the station. Geez, they were worse than friggen pit-bulls with a fresh piece of meat.

"What have you got to lose?"

Kowalski glanced back at the balding detective who'd spoken. For some reason this man annoyed the hell out of him and they'd only met 15 minutes before.

"Busy." He replied as he cut a sharp left and almost ran straight into the Mountie. God, a Mountie in Chicago? How weird was that?

Said Mountie cleared his throat. "We really could use your help in getting this nefarious miscreant behind bars where he belongs. We believe he's responsible for one substantial injury as well as destruction of Canadian property—"

"No one talks like that." Kowalski snapped, "what are you, some kind of weirdo?"

The Mountie shrugged "I 'talk like that'."

Elaine opened her mouth but he cut her off. "I thought you were cool. Why are you hounding me for these two nutcases?"

Elaine's eyes narrowed and subconsciously, Kowalski took a step back. "I'll tell you why, Ray. Because I've seen these two 'nutcases' as you call them go out of their way over and over to help those who can't help themselves." She advanced another step as her voice became more dangerous and he took another step back, coming up against an empty desk by the doorway. "I've seen them risk their lives to make sure the right thing was done no matter what. Now they need help and _we_ can help them."

This time Ray Kowalski opened his mouth but Elaine held up a hand forestalling him, then pointed a finger at him. "You're a good man, Ray Kowalski, and I know you'll help because that's what good men do." She returned, absolute certainty in her voice.

Ray's eyes turned sad, and his jaw clenched as he looked away. When he looked back at her his eyes were hard again. Resolute. "I may have been a good man. Once. But that was a long time ago, Elaine. I've learned it's every man for himself and I'm looking out for number one." He smirked at her. "I guess I'm just a bastard."

Elaine sadly shook her head as he pushed past her. "No," she whispered, "you're simply lost."

"What are the two of you doing here?" A voice demanded and they turned towards the doorway to see an angry looking blond woman march up to them. "Aren't you out of your jurisdiction?" Stella Kowalski, aka Assistant States Attorney Kowalski asked.

Ray Vecchio turned on a smarmy grin that taunted more than anything if the way she bristled was any indication. "Why if it isn't my favorite person. Fancy running into you here." He said charmingly.

Fraser wisely stood back as he watched as his friend and ASA Kowalski exchanged, what he finally figured to be, their normal greetings. Out of the corner of his eye he saw 'Ray' Kowalski make his way back over to them.

"Don't try your charm on me, Vecchio. If I had my way you'd be behind bars after that incident with Freyville. What were you thinking when you said that crap on the stand?" She demanded to know.

"I was thinking that you were prosecuting the wrong man." Ray shot back.

"Not according to the Grand Jury."

"That was before Fraser uncovered th—"

"Oh yes, the Mountie." She finally looked around and seemed disconcerted to see him standing so close. "Don't you have enough criminals in Canada to go after?" She snapped, then abruptly stopped talking as she spied Ray Kowalski standing slightly behind him.

"Stella. It's been a while." The blond detective said nonchalantly, but Fraser noted he seemed oddly still, as if her were waiting for something, his entire attention focused on the Assistant SA.

"Ray. Yes it has. I heard you were back." She stated as she looked everywhere but at him. "Well, I have to get going. Detectives." She sidestepped Vecchio and made to go past them.

"Stella," the blond man took hold of her arm and she turned to face him.

"What is it, Ray?"

Ray swallowed as he let go of her arm and shrugged. "I just thought maybe we could go for dinner." When he saw her start to shake her head he forged on quickly. "Or coffee if you don't have a lot of time. You know, catch up on old times and all."

Stella took a deep breath and stood taller. "I don't think that's a good idea, Ray. It's over. There's no reason to rehash bad memories."

Ray watched as she strode towards his Captain's office and disappeared. "Not all of them were bad." He said quietly. He could hear Elaine whisper 'ex-wife' to the two men and took a deep breath and turned around.

"So what did you do to piss her off?" he asked, causing Vecchio to snort with suppressed laughter.

"You mean besides breathe?"

Ray Kowalski slowly gave an ear-to-ear smile. "You know, I think my schedule just opened up." He went to his desk and grabbed his jacket. "How about we get outta here?"

Ray and Ben looked at each other and smiled. Who knew they'd ever actually want to thank Assistant SA Kowalski for anything?


	17. A Fic With No Name part 17

Ben leaned back against the clubs wall, hidden by shadows. So far he'd managed not to draw much attention to himself, mostly thanks to Ray Vecchio. As soon as any man-or woman- looked in his direction the detective would glare at them and they eventually got the hit he was spoken for.

At first Ray had protested – loudly- that he wasn't going to pretend to be Ben's boyfriend but when Fraser insisted on keeping as close an eye on Orvitz as he could, Ray grumbled but followed him into the club. Now the Chicago Detective had his arm draped across Ben's shoulders, and the air of indignation poured from him.

"What's wrong with these people? Can't they see you're here with me? What am I, chopped liver?"

Ben rubbed his earlobe as he thought over the last two men who were much bolder in their interest of him. He opened his mouth but apparently Ray wasn't finished yet.

"And what's wrong with me?" He added "no offense, Fraze, but I'm charming, suave," he ran a hand along the side of his closely shaved head, and then straightened the collar of his shirt. He looked at Ben and his nose wrinkled. The Mountie was wearing tight fitting jeans and a plaid flannel shirt tucked in, accentuation lean, hard abs. He sucked his own stomach in "and a better dresser. If anyone should be getting hit on, it's me."

When all Ray did was look at Ben, the Mountie realized he was now supposed to respond. He opened his mouth but was cut off.

"Oh honey, I don't see anything wrong with you" rasped a husky voice from Ray's right. Both men looked over to see a very large, er… female looking Ray over and licking her lips as a telltale bulge beneath her mini-skirt twitched.

She sidled up to Ray and leaned closer. "If you want a good time, Rhonda is just what you need." She purred as she ran a very long fingernail down the exposed V of his shirt.

Ben moved, placing himself between Rhonda and Ray-not an easy task as it seemed Rhonda didn't want to give up her latest find. He paused _Rhonda & Ray, that does have a catchy ring to it_. Shaking himself, he put on his most charming smile. It always seemed to work with the ladies and he couldn't imagine now being any different.

"Excuse me, miss, but my partner and I have been together for years, and we're very happy with the arrangement." _Nice… I didn't even have to lie._

Instead of Rhonda leaving though, she leaned around Ben's shoulder to Ray. "Maybe he's looking for a change. He didn't sound too happy a few minutes ago."

"No!" Ray blurted, causing Ben to turn and look at him. "We're really happy together, aren't we? Pookie?" He squeaked out in a choked voice. Wide, panicked eyes darted between Ben & Rhonda. When both simply continued to stare at him- Ben with shock, but more unnerving, Rhonda in disbelief- Ray did the only thing he could.

Grabbing the Mounties's collar with both hands he yanked him forward and kissed him for all he was worth.

Ben stood frozen as Ray pressed his lips against his. He was aware when Rhonda let out a huff and walked off, and tapped Ray on the shoulder. "Is she gone?" ray muttered against his lips, trying to look to his side. Blonde hair came into view and he quickly jumped back and wiped his lips.

All three men stood awkwardly, as Ray Kowalski eyed the other two men he'd recently met. "Don't go getting any ideas with me." He warned.

"It's not what yo-"

"We're not actu-"

Both men started but Kowalski held up a staying hand. "Orvitz isn't here and it's been hours," He said without inflection. "I'm going home before this place starts to turn me, too."

"Hey! It's not what it looks like!" Vecchio protested as he ran after the blonde man. "It didn't mean anything!" Other patrons stopped what they were doing to watch the blonde man hurry away from the almost bald man, followed by a good looking man with dark hair and chiseled features.

"Honey, that excuse _never_ works." A helpful patron called out causing general laughter as the three men left.

"Not my business" Kowalski pushed the door open and stepped into the cool night, taking a deep breath.

"It was just a cover. Tell him Fraser!" Ray glanced over his shoulder to see the Mountie in what appeared to be a serious conversation with Diefenbaker, who'd had to wait outside.

"Fraser!" Both Ray's yelled in unison, causing Ben to jump.

"Thanks, Diefenbaker. Ray-" he paused and looked from Ray Vecchio to Ray Kowalski and shook his head. This was going to take some getting used to. "Apparently Orvitz _did_ show up earlier. Someone tipped him off before he got inside that 'undercover police' we here."

"He knows we're on to him."

All three men let the implications of that sink in, and then Ray swore. "Shit. What would you do if you knew you're time was limited?"

"He's after Meg." It was a statement, not a question and even as Ben said it he was pulling open the door to the Riv so Dief could get in the back seat. They'd have to make certain she was safe. Move her to a safe place, before they tracked him down. Evidence or not this was going to end tonight.


	18. A Fic With No Name part 18

Hello all my fellow die-hard Duesers. I can't tell you how sorry I am that this fic is taking so long to get from my head to paper. Muse was missing and life's been difficult. But I hope if you're still reading you like this next part. We're almost to the finish line….

Meg stared out the window into the dark and shivered, despite the fact it was still warm out. _He was out there._ She knew it just as she now knew he was the one who was behind all the mishaps over the past few months at the Consulate.

Without the maintenance files, without being able to _prove_ that Orvitz was the one who took the files, she amended, they'd never be able to prove Fraser was innocent. She knew the men were going to search his apartment, but really, she didn't think he was stupid enough to leave the files there. A sick feeling went through her when she realized that there was nothing from stopping him from destroying them. Indeed, if she'd been in his place that would have been the first thing she would have done.

No. They had to lure him out. Make him over-confident then _maybe_ he'd slip and reveal something they could use against him. But what? There was no reason behind his resentment that she could tell, other than herself…

Meg closed her eyes and shuddered again as she wrapped her arms around herself. She knew what she had to do.

Meg turned her head to see Turnbull glance quickly away; the look of concern on his face quickly shuttered into a bland mask.

"Turnbull," Meg turned to face him as he stood to attention. "Ad-ease, Turnbull. I need to get a few things from the store."

Turnbull puffed out his chest eager to be of service. "Yes sir! I can go in a jiffy. What is it you need?"

Meg paced back to the window and looked out at the night sky. _What exactly __**was**__ it she needed?_ Time. Luck. A miracle. "Just some groceries; for dinner. You decide." She replied off handedly, already thinking of what else she needed for her plan to work. She had a mini digital recorder that she could tuck into the waistband of her jeans. And a knife – a gift from Ben a couple Christmases ago- she could put in her boot.

Turnbull snapped off a quick salute. "Yes sir! I can make a wonderful braised chicken with a lemon herb sauce, or a nice pot roast? Oh! Or I could make –"

"Turnbull" Meg cut him off. Now that her mind was made up she had to act while she had the nerve. "Just use your best judgment."

She listened as he got his hat and moved about her apartment, staring unseeing at the Chicago skyline. A moment later the door closed behind her. Knowing she didn't have much time before he returned she went to the desk in the corner and reached for a piece of paper and a pen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You've got to be kidding me." Ray Vecchio grumbled as he backed the Riv out of the parking lot. "We wasted all that time in there and he wasn't even there?"

Ben opened his mouth to reply but before he could say anything a snort came from his right. "You're just upset no one thought you were date worthy." Kowalski smirked at the dark haired man.

Ben watched as Ray's expression hardened and cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, please. Now's not the time to—"

Ray Vecchio's cell phone rang in three short chirps stopping Ben in his tracks. It was the tone he'd assigned to Thatcher's house and Ben took a deep breath. They had agreed that, incase the house phone was being tapped; it was only to be used in extreme emergencies. Otherwise, Turnbull went to the corner to use the payphone.

"What's going on?" Kowalski asked and was waved silent by Ben.

"Vecchio." Ben watched his friend answer the phone, then still. He knew whatever it was it couldn't be good. "Are you sure?"

"When?… Don't worry. We'll meet you there."

Ray was flooring the Riv as he stuffed the phone back in his pocket. He took a deep breath before he glancing at his friend. "Thatcher's missing. She sent him to the store and when he returned she was gone. She left a note. Apparently she felt if she used herself as bait to lure him out we could nab him."

"Fraser…" Ray took a breath and forced himself to tell the worst part. "Turnbull became distracted at the store. He was only to pick up a few things and ending up doing major shopping. In the note she figured he'd be right back and gave him instructions for us to meet at Orvitz's apartment."

Kowalski listened to all this in silence, then noticed how the Mountie's hand curled into a fist. "So let's go." The blond said as he looked at the two men. A moment later they were speeding down Hamilton Avenue.


End file.
